Promise Me A Rainbow Read Online Free PDF

notes from the music in the pit of her stomach. He didn’t move when she pushed him in the back.
    “Where you going, baby?” a black woman asked kindly, in spite of Fritz’s squirming to get past. The woman smelled nice, like when Fritz took a bath and Della let her open a new bar of soap.
    “The Mayfair,” Fritz told her, and the woman smiled.
    “You all mashed in there where you can’t see nothing, baby. You want me to pull the buzzer cord for you?”
    “Yes, please,” Fritz said politely, wondering if she should offer to pay the woman for doing it.
    But the woman didn’t seem to want any money. She pulled the buzzer cord when it was time and made the fat boy move so Fritz could get off.
    “Thank you very much,” Fritz said, and the woman patted her head.
    It was still raining, and Fritz stood at the corner for a moment before she crossed the street to the Mayfair. She took a deep breath. There was no sense in worrying now. She was here, and she wanted to see the woman who had bought the gnomes. She wanted to see Daisy and Eric, too, and she had to get back before someone missed her. She hadn’t really thought about that part of the plan—how to get home before she was missed—and she didn’t waste time with it now. She waited until a line of cars went by, then darted across the street. The Mayfair faced the side street rather than Second, and she walked along the sidewalk under the big trees to the front door. The rain sounded louder under the tree, and she decided that she liked the Mayfair’s front doors. They had a sort of little porch over it that was held up with chains, so people coming out wouldn’t get wet before they got their umbrellas up. And she liked the panes of glass in the doors. She could see inside easily, to where a lamp sat on a little table in the foyer. Someone had turned the lamp on, making the dark foyer look warm and dry. She had always liked looking into places from the outside and wondering what kind of people were in there, and if it smelled like chocolate-chip cookies baking, and if there were children with a mother.
    She had some trouble with the doors because they had swollen from the rain, but she managed. If Charlie had been with her, he wouldn’t have opened the doors for her. He’d have made her do it herself, to build her character. She was glad that Charlie did that, worried about her character. It made her feel better about things, knowing that even if she didn’t have a mother, with Charlie’s help her character would be all right.
    The first door by the stairs was open, and she glanced through the screen at the old woman inside. She could hear the television playing—the man on Channel 6 talking about all the rain. She expected the woman to call out to her as she passed, but she didn’t. Fritz climbed the stairs quickly, the soles of her shoes making little squeaking noises on the wooden steps.
    Three flights was a long way up, and she was panting by the time she reached the right door. She waited for a moment to catch her breath before she knocked. Her first knock was weak and timid, and no one answered. She tried again, knocking louder this time, and again she waited.
    Nothing happened.
    She looked around her, wondering if she should knock again. Maybe Ms. Holben had gone somewhere. No. No, she didn’t think Ms. Holben had gone. Ms. Holben was going to cry, and, when grown-ups cried, they sat in a dark room at home to do it. She took another deep breath. The door across the hall cracked open, and Fritz could see half a face wearing eyeglasses.
    “Knock louder, honey. She’s at home,” the face said, and the door closed.
    Fritz knocked again, hard this time. She tried to do it the way they did it on the television—really hard—and her knuckles hurt. She could hear muffled noises on the other side, but it was a long time before the door opened.
    “Yes?” the woman, Ms. Holben, said. She still had on the same clothes—a denim skirt and a white blouse